


Whumptober 2020 - 26 - Under Duress (Part 3)

by Celticgal1041



Series: Whumptober 2020 [26]
Category: Magnum P.I. (TV 2018)
Genre: Angst, Blindness, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Flashbacks, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, Whump, Whumptober 2020, disorientation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-27
Updated: 2020-10-27
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:15:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27218515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Celticgal1041/pseuds/Celticgal1041
Summary: No matter how much he blinked, he couldn’t see a thing, sending a fresh way of terror ricocheting through his chest. They’d blinded him!
Series: Whumptober 2020 [26]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1949548
Comments: 8
Kudos: 42
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	Whumptober 2020 - 26 - Under Duress (Part 3)

**Author's Note:**

> This is the third part of the story that began in my day 24 fic: Under Duress (Part 1). I recommend reading that one, and part 2 posted on day 25, first as this part may not make much sense otherwise.

“Tommy, wake up,” a voice inside his head insistently repeated through the fog that seemed to have permeated Magnum’s brain.

He was cold; that was the first sensation that registered as he began his slow, painful journey towards consciousness. Reflexively, he pulled his limbs closer, trying in vain to find some small remnant of heat in his frozen body. He’d begun to drift away again, when the pleading voice in his head returned, pulling him close enough to awareness for a shiver to rack his chilled frame. Thomas groaned in reply.

“Yes, I think he’s awake,” the voice stated excitedly.

Magnum trembled again, the minor movements of his muscles awakening the dull roar in his side. He shifted an uncoordinated hand to the spot to soothe it, gasping when its weight only sharpened the pain. A low moan escaped from his parted lips, his breathing rapid and shallow as he struggled with the agony in his side.

“Slow breaths, Thomas,” the voice coached. He struggled to listen to it and regulate his breathing, forcefully deepening his inhales and extending his exhales. “Good job, brother,” the voice praised.

Now that he was semi-aware, new questions came to the forefront of his mind: where was he; who had he been with; and how did he end up hurt in the first place? Recognizing he’d need to open his eyes to get some of his answers, he tried and failed to prise open his lids, puzzled when he wasn’t able to accomplish the simple task. “Wha’?” he mumbled, one hand already reaching for his face.

When his fingers touched the gauze covering his eyes, his heartrate spiked as his brain screamed at him in panic, ‘You’re blind!’

His chest tightened as his breathing grew uneven and ragged, panic preventing him from thinking clearly. “I think he just remembered what happened to his eyes,” someone said, but Magnum was too consumed by terror to register the words.

“Hey, calm down,” a new voice interjected, this one accompanied by a rough shake to his arm.

The touch surprised him, interrupting the runaway panic that had been taking hold; with effort, Magnum clawed his way back, forcing his sluggish brain to think and push back the terror. After another minute he’d calmed enough to recall the events of the last 24-hours, ending with his unsuccessful attempt to negotiate a way out. “Smith?” he asked, hating the residual tremble in his tone.

“Your friends’ time is almost up,” the leader replied. “Maybe they decided you weren’t worth the effort,” Smith suggested with a chuckle before walking away.

“Don’t listen to him, Tommy; we’d never leave you,” Rick assured. Carefully, Magnum reached his fingers up to the gauze covering his face, using the motion to cover his surreptitious check for the receiver in his right ear. It was still there, and he sighed in relief as he sank back to the ground, too weary to do anything more.

“I know you can’t talk, but listen,” Wright continued. “We’ve got a plan, but I need to know how mobile you are. If you’re capable of moving, clear your throat.”

Magnum considered his friend’s question. Could he move? The wound in his side was complaining loudly and burned with a heat that kept his breathing shallow since anything deeper tugged uncomfortably at the damaged tissue. Now that he thought about it, his knee was still throbbing dully, and there was no doubt it would have stiffened during his period of unconsciousness.

Beyond that was the matter of his sight, and whatever he tried to do would be seriously hampered by his inability to see. Despite that, it was likely he’d still be able to move, although how fast and how far was another matter. With effort, he cleared his throat.

“Good,” Rick replied, relieved. “We’ve got you on infrared, so I’ll be able to direct you when the time comes. Otherwise, I assume it goes without saying, but when the shooting starts, duck.” Ignoring the temptation to roll his eyes, Magnum cleared his throat again and settled down to wait.

Several minutes later, Wright informed him, “We’re gonna breach now.” The sound of breaking glass followed, along with the dull thud of canisters striking the ground and then exploding. He could hear cries of surprise around him as the group reacted to the assault.

“I need you to move now, Thomas,” Rick directed.

Assuming no one was paying attention to him now, Magnum breathed out a soft “Okay” before rolling onto all fours and then quickly shifting his weight from his bruised knee. The change from the ground to upright had his head spinning, with his arms reaching out to find something to hold onto, but he found nothing to with which to stabilize himself.

“You alright?” Wright asked worriedly.

“Yeah, which way?” Thomas gritted out, letting his head hang as he waited for the dizziness to pass.

“Turn to your nine o’clock and head twenty paces,” Rick directed.

Magnum turned and began limping forward, one hand pressed back against his wound. Without his vision, he felt badly off balance, and was certain that he kept leaning towards one side as he moved in an awkward, shuffling gait. “Almost there,” Wright encouraged him, no doubt underwhelmed by Magnum’s posture and pace.

Behind him, he could hear a couple of larger explosions, which he automatically identified as door charges, allowing entry to the rescuing force. A similar explosion sounded directly in front of him, causing him to reel back from it in surprise. Shifting his weight back onto his injured leg caused it to buckle beneath him, and moments later, he found himself sprawled on the hard ground, panting against the flare of agony in his side, which had been jarred as he’d fallen.

The next thing he knew, there were unknown hands touching him, causing him to panic and struggle to get away. “Whoa, TM, it’s us,” Calvin tried to calm the man as he caught Magnum’s wrists in a firm hold.

“TC?” Thomas breathed out.

“Yes, we’re both here,” Higgins confirmed, and he felt her smaller hand resting on his leg.

“Let’s get you up,” Calvin said, and Magnum could feel his arms being tugged upwards and over two sets of shoulders.

“Careful,” he hissed as the motion pulled on his side. Higgins and TC traded glances but didn’t stop, needing to get out of the building before they got caught up in the coming firefight.

Thomas did his best to keep up with his friends’ pace, but he just couldn’t manage it. After several hours of blood loss, and the subsequent poor treatment at Smith’s hands, he simply had nothing more to draw upon. Unsurprised, Higgins and TC bore the man’s weight, practically dragging him outside and across the lot, which was empty except for the waiting Range Rover.

“We’re clear,” TC stated, although Magnum had no idea to whom he was speaking.

“We just need to wait until we’re given the all clear, and then we’ll get you tended by the paramedics,” Higgins explained. “Until then, let’s sit you down.”

Magnum let them lower him to the ground, his back resting against one of the vehicle’s tires. As Juliet went to shift away, he groped blindly for her hand, gratified when she took his and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “It work?” he asked.

TC grinned at him as he answered for Higgins. “Like a charm, although there is still the matter of the missing thumb drive.”

Letting his head drop backwards to rest against the warm rubber, Thomas muttered, “Not missing.”

His body fell lax as his overtaxed systems shut down, prompting Higgins to move her free hand to his throat. “Just unconscious,” she announced a moment later.

Calvin nodded in reply, turning to watch the warehouse behind them while Juliet sat down beside the investigator, still holding his hand.

* * *

When he’d arrived at the hospital, it had nearly been a toss-up about which injury to treat first: his eyes or the stab wound. Significant blood loss and risk of infection won out, and Magnum was wheeled into surgery just as soon as the doctors had deemed him stable enough to survive.

While he was still under anaesthesia, an ophthalmologist had arrived to examine Magnum’s eyes. Both his eyes and the surrounding skin had been thoroughly cleaned, medicated drops had been administered, and a fresh bandage had been applied. There were no guarantees, but the doctor felt confident the investigator would regain some of his sight, but how much would be seen with time.

Fourteen hours after his surgery, Magnum was awake and lucid enough to hear the details of what had happened after he’d negotiated Higgins’ release.

“You were right that the FBI would be interested in these guys, and it was no problem at all to convince them to come to our aid once they realised what was at risk,” Rick explained.

“Fortunately, with Katsumoto’s assistance, we were also able to convince them that we should have a part to play in things, allowing us to opportunity to pull you out of the warehouse before the real fun began,” Higgins added.

Magnum’s memory of his rescue was still somewhat fuzzy, but he distinctly recalled being guided to safety by the voice in his ear. “How’d you know my position?” he asked.

“That was thanks to our federal friends,” Rick replied. “When they wouldn’t let me set up a sniper’s nest to catch any strays, I convinced them to let me use their equipment to pinpoint your location and get you closer to the back exit.”

“Plus, we convinced them that you’d more likely listen to one of us than some tech you’d never met,” TC added.

“Yeah, keeping that receiver in place was a good idea,” Magnum conceded.

“It was,” Higgins began. “Although your idea of sacrificing yourself was an exceptionally stupid one.” A note of concern crept into her tone as she asked, “Why didn’t you just hand over the drive?”

“It was too risky,” Thomas admitted, dropping his head to look downwards at his lap, despite not being able to see anything. “I have no idea whose financial records they manipulated, but I figured it was a pretty big deal given how organized they seemed to be.”

“You’re right about that,” TC confirmed. “From what they’ve been able to figure out at Saito’s end, they targeted loan accounts linked to several foreign governments, which could have collapsed some of the shakier countries’ economies.”

“Speaking of the drive, the FBI is practically salivating to get their hands on it,” Rick chimed in. “Where’d you hide it?”

A slight smile appeared on Magnum’s face as he replied, “I shoved it between the seats in the Rover.”

Unknown to Thomas, a faint look of horror passed over his friends’ faces as they recalled the amount of blood that had soaked into the leather seats where the investigator had sat. Clearing her throat, Higgins asked, “Why didn’t tell Rick and TC that you’d been stabbed? At the very least, they could have bound the wound and stopped you from losing even more blood than you already had.”

Magnum’s lips lifted upwards again at the underlying concern in Juliet’s words. Offering a slight shrug, he replied, “They wouldn’t have let me go if they’d known.”

The trio traded knowing glances, appreciating how well Thomas knew them. More stunning however, was the fact that he’d intentionally put himself into harm’s way to get Higgins released from her captors. “That was incredibly foolish on your part,” Juliet stated, but there was no heat in her words. A moment later, she softly added, “Thank you.”

Magnum offered a small nod, clearly embarrassed at being the centre of attention. Needing to change the topic, he asked, “The doctor said anything about when I can get out of here?”

“And he’s back,” Rick drawled with a grin on his face. Despite being less than a day out of surgery and still being hooked up to copious amounts of medical paraphernalia, the former SEAL was already looking forward to being back home.

“Pretty sure the docs want to keep you here at least until you can make it to the bathroom on your own,” Calvin replied.

“Don’t forget being able to eat solids,” Higgins chimed in.

“Alright,” Magnum raised a hand to get them to stop. “I get it; it’s going to be a while.” He yawned widely as his weary body reminded him how far from healthy he currently was.

“You should get some rest,” Juliet stated, recalling the doctor’s words about how exhausted the investigator was likely to be, especially until his blood volume returned to normal.

“Feel like all I’ve been doing is sleeping,” Magnum mumbled in reply.

“And you’ll be doing a lot more of it,” Rick rejoined, not so subtly reminding Thomas that he had a long recovery ahead of him.

“Go to sleep, TM. We’ll be here when you wake up,” Calvin told him. Within a minute, Magnum was sound asleep, leaving the trio of friends to decide their next steps.

“We expecting nightmares?” Rick asked, already knowing the answer to his question.

“Hell, yeah,” TC confirmed. “Wouldn’t you if you’d just been put through the wringer and couldn’t see anything?”

“Three-hour shifts,” Higgins suggested, receiving nods from both men. “Then I suggest you head home and get some rest.” When it appeared they were about to argue, she plowed ahead. “Unlike you, I didn’t break into a building a couple nights ago, and then spend the next 24 hours worrying about Magnum. Go,” she ordered, not unkindly. “I’m certain I’ve managed more sleep than the two of you combined, and I’ll happily head home to rest when one of you comes to relieve me.”

With matching smiles and nods, the men left Magnum in Higgins’ care. Juliet settled into the chair at the investigator’s side, ready to watch over the man who had welcomed her into his makeshift ohana.

* * *

Higgins’ eyes were drawn to the twitch of Magnum’s left hand, the motion having repeated itself twice before in the past minute. Slowly, she lowered the magazine she’d been perusing to her lap, sitting up straighter in her seat as she continued to observe her sleeping friend.

As she watched, his brow furrowed in discomfort and a low moan emitted from his throat. Rick and TC had warned her in general terms of the nightmares they all suffered but had spared her the details as if those were too private to share. Higgins had respected their right to keep their bad dreams to themselves, having far too many of her own to judge anyone else.

Clearly, Magnum was experiencing one now. A sharp indrawn breath from the man lying in the bed had her leaning forward. Hesitantly, she hovered a hand above his, wanting to comfort him but worried her touch might make things worse instead of better.

“No,” Thomas groaned lowly, rolling his head side to side a couple times before falling still.

“Magnum?” Higgins tried, wondering if he was still caught in his nightmare. “Are you awake?” He didn’t respond, but she noted how his limbs seemed to stiffen with tension. “You’re alright,” she added as she slowly lowered her hand, letting it rest on the investigator’s wrist. Letting out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding, she let her fingers close around his arm.

The touch was electric and to Magnum’s confused mind, it signalled the presence of an enemy and the need to get away. Letting instinct and his panic guide him, he ripped his arm from her hold, rolling away from the contact with a primal cry of terror.

In his current state, he had no idea he was in a hospital bed, and his quest to escape had him falling off the edge of the bed. The sudden absence of anything solid beneath him spiked his adrenaline-fueled fear and dampened some of the pain from his impact with the cold, tile floor.

The door to Magnum’s room opened just as something metallic hit the ground in the hallway outside, the clang reverberating noisily for several seconds. It was the last straw for the terrified man.

Rick and TC watched in stunned silence from the doorway as Thomas flinched, his entire body jarred by the loud sound. Higgins stared at the two men in confusion, shocked at how quickly things had escalated and uncertain what to do next, an apology already forming on her lips for having attempted to offer their ailing friend some comfort. But their attention was firmly fixed on the former SEAL, and slowly, Juliet shifted her gaze as well, wondering what sort of nightmarish visions he was caught up in.

* * *

They’d blindfolded him again. That was his first realization when he’d woken unable to see. It had become a favored tactic when they’d realized how much losing his vision affected him. When he could see their blows coming, he could prepare himself, physically and mentally. Having his sight taken from him stole that advantage and made him vulnerable in ways he’d prefer not to acknowledge.

His captors would play with him then, stalking him like a large cat would stalk its prey. Their movement was unpredictable and quiet, making it difficult to track their location despite straining to listen for even the softest whisper of displaced air. Their tactics would change as well, interspersing the expected blows delivered by feet and fists, with electricity and fire, or with wickedly sharp blades dipped in gasoline.

Never knowing what kind of pain to expect, his tormentors managed to pull anguished cries from him more often than not when he was unable to curb his body’s instinctive response. They would laugh at making the American give voice his sounds of agony, and Magnum would only feel shame. Shame at not being stronger; same at not being able to silence himself; and shame at not having been smart enough yet to escape the hands of their enemy to save both himself and his friends. It was this latter regret that haunted most of his dreams.

When he’d felt someone’s hand on his wrist, he knew that pain would follow, so he’d tugged his arm away, shocked when he’d been able to move. Usually, they tied his arms, but clearly this was just another way of messing with him. Whatever the reason, he rolled away as quickly and as a far away as he could. He knew they’d punish him for it, but he was willing to accept more pain later for any delay he could buy himself now.

When the ground suddenly disappeared beneath him and he fell, he had a short moment to think, ‘Ah, _this_ was their game.’ Obviously, they’d wanted him to react exactly as he had, causing more injury to himself because he didn’t realize he wasn’t already on the ground.

The impact was jarring, and agony immediately flooded his pain receptors making it impossible to know where he was actually hurt. But that didn’t matter now. They would advance on him, just as they had every time before, so he curled up as tightly as he could in preparation for their attack. That’s when the sound of metal being struck reached his ears, and he couldn’t help but jerk back at the sound.

Magnum had heard that sound before, when he’d watched a man being enclosed inside an oil drum. A sadistically grinning man had hammered away at the lid once it had settled over the soldier’s head, sealing him in so he’d be unable to escape. There were nights when Thomas could still hear the poor man’s screams as he pleaded to be released.

Thomas had seen a lot of atrocities during his military career, and endured too many himself, but the thought of being sealed inside a steel barrel to die was too much for him to bear. “No!” he screamed as the clanking of metal echoed. Fingers scrabbling at his face, he ripped away the bandages there, blinking sightlessly at his surroundings. Tears were already streaming down his cheeks as his body tried to wash away the grit that seemed to have invaded them, but to no avail. No matter how much he blinked, he couldn’t see a thing, sending a fresh way of terror ricocheting through his chest. They’d blinded him!

A low keening howl built in his chest, although he had no idea the mournful sound was coming from him. He trembled with too much adrenaline and overwhelming pain, a blanket of desolation settling over him at what they’d stolen from him. Angrily, he brought his palms to his eyes, rubbing at the useless orbs as if he could somehow reverse whatever they’d done.

Vaguely, he could hear the shouts of his captors, but couldn’t discern their words, moments before foreign hands tugged his own away from his face. An inarticulate roar broke from his throat as he once more threw himself backwards and away from their touch. He knew they’d catch him eventually, but that didn’t mean he’d make it easy, and he intended to fight them every step of the way.

He made it to all fours and then up to his feet, unable to straighten due to a searing ache in his side. One hand automatically wrapped around his torso to cover the source of his pain, while his other arm was outstretched as he took his first stumbling steps.

The guards were shouting at him again, but he ignored them, knowing well that they were more likely to get their way with fists instead of words. His shin crashed into something and he nearly went down, but he stubbornly kicked whatever it was out of his way and kept going. His hand encountered something hard and unforgiving, and he braced himself against it, gauging that he’d distanced himself from his attackers by at least several feet.

His eyes wide and unseeing, and his chest heaving with terror, he readied himself to fight. Without his vision, he knew escape was impossible, but at least he’d have a better of chance of hurting some of them while on his feet. A noise from his left had him shifting his attention in that direction, only for the attack to come from his right. A sharp sting in his thigh was his only warning that he’d been outmanoeuvered, before his limbs grew weak and he found himself sliding to the ground.

He slumped against the hard surface at his back as his eyes slowly slid closed, his final thought being that he’d failed again.

Near the doorway of his hospital room, his three friends wore expressions of sorrow, hating that Magnum had needed to be sedated, but understanding the hospital’s decision to do so. As one, they turned away and exited as they’d been asked, waiting until the ill man had been resettled and they’d be allowed to return.

* * *

TC had a beautiful singing voice. Even Rick would admit it if pushed to do so, and during Magnum’s recovery it had been a godsend. After Thomas had suffered his first devastating flashback while hospitalized, Calvin’s soothing baritone never left his side.

At first, the pilot had insisted he stay with Magnum around the clock, an idea which Rick and Higgins quickly kyboshed. Instead, they encouraged him to record himself singing a few songs, which they could easily play to remind Magnum that he was no longer a prisoner. Thankfully, for everyone involved, it worked like a charm, Thomas seeming to have a particular affinity for The Temptations’ “ _My Girl”_.

He’d spent three more days in hospital before the doctors were comfortable enough with his progress to release him. Magnum was relieved, his lack of sight making it difficult to get any proper rest while in a place that was so open and unfamiliar to him.

His friends had brought him home, agreeing when he insisted he return to the guest house, which he was certain he could navigate while waiting for his eyes to heal and his vision to return. Confirmation that he would, in fact, get his sight back had gone a long way to helping him relax and marked an end to his waking nightmares.

Another week at home had passed, with one or more of his friends always around, helping him with his needs and mostly keeping him from getting too bored since the majority of his usual distractions weren’t an option while he couldn’t see.

Then, finally, just this morning, he’d had the bandages removed from his eyes, the smile on his face when he’d opened them making it clear that his vision had returned. TC had driven him back home after his appointment, having already called ahead to share the good news.

Now, everyone was comfortably ensconced in Magnum’s living room, Higgins and Kumu having prepared a light, but filling, lunch to celebrate their friend’s sight.

“Are you humming?” Rick sat up slightly as the low sound reached his ears.

Thomas gave a shrug, feeling somewhat self-conscious at having been caught. “I can’t help it; this song just keeps running through my head.” The friends looked at each other with grins on their faces, prompting the investigator to ask, “Okay, what don’t I know?”

TC cleared his throat before answering. “I may have sung to you to keep the nightmares away.”

“It seemed to be the only way we could reach your subconscious to let you know you weren’t still a prisoner and being tortured by your captors,” Higgins explained.

Magnum wore a momentary expression of surprise before he said, “Thanks, brother.”

With an embarrassed but pleased look on his face, Calvin replied, “It ain’t nothing, my brother.”

“Why do you even know such an old song?” Rick asked. “It must have been released a couple decades before you were born.”

TC’s face lit up with a wide grin as he said, “I’ll have you know that song was a hit with the ladies.” At Rick’s upraised eyebrow, he went on. “I sang that to Miss Sandy Delvine when I was walking her home after our Junior Prom.”

“What makes you think she liked your rendition?” Higgins asked.

Calvin’s grin broadened as he replied, “Because she was also my date for the Senior Prom.”

The group burst out laughing, their light-hearted banter a welcome relief after weeks of stress and worrying. Outside, Zeus and Apollo cocked their heads at the sounds of mirth coming from inside, joining in a moment later with loud yips of their own.

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to AZGirl for proofing; all remaining mistakes are mine.
> 
> This section of the story was based on the day 26 prompt: If you thought the head trauma was bad… migraine / concussion / blindness
> 
> Thanks for reading and I'd love to hear your thoughts if you're so inclined!


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